


Coming Home

by lizcltr



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Cute, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 07:16:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizcltr/pseuds/lizcltr
Summary: Kibum visits Minho's home for the first time. And gets to know him. Again.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> I was clearing out my documents and stumbled across a few fics from three or four years ago. I thought someone on here might find a bit of joy reading them, so I'll post them. Thank you for reading!

"Okay, how long do you think it’ll take?" Kibum tries not to sigh into his phone and make his discomfort all that obvious, averting his glance from the woman sitting across from him on the subway. "I don’t want to invade your space while you’re not there."

"_Nonsense, Bum, I’m about to wrap up here, so it should be ten minutes until I’m out and then about twenty-five until I’m home. But with all the deadlines coming up and stuff, people usually go a little nuts last minute and it could take a little longer than that. I’m sorry, Bum,_" Minho’s voice quakes out of the device. "_But make yourself at home, you’re not invading anything. I’ll get something to eat on the way._"

"Yeah, okay, take care." Kibum goes for a more optimistic tone this time. "I guess I’ll see you soon, then."

After he hears the click on the line, indicating that Minho has hung up, he does let the sigh escape and stuffs his phone into his bag, ignoring the alerts of new messages. After having been contacted by a slightly stressed out Minho who can’t make it on time due to organizational havoc at work, he doesn’t want to deal with other people and their attempts at proper communication. He’s way too nervous for that. Inwardly, he releases a plethora of curses, some of them threatening to slip past his lips as his anxiousness increases by the second.

He’s currently on his way to Minho’s place, which wouldn’t be a big deal if he had been there before, if the two of them weren’t a couple, and if Minho would have actually been there with him. There has never been a chance for either of them to actually visit each other at their respective homes since they both ended up in the big city, at least not before they got together. Back together. Kibum can’t help but grin, bright and silly, despite his nerves. The memories of their high school romance instantly make him relax a little. Of how they would steal as many pecks and whispers and touches in between classes as possible, of how they would hang out and cuddle and have sleepovers and drive their parents crazy with all the video games they played and rap battles they held and dance choreographies they learned in the living room.

When his thoughts drift towards the relationship they share right now, remembering the affection, rediscovering their bond, creating something new because they have grown up and moved on since then, his smile gets even bigger. He is amazed at how easily even the mere thought of Minho can soothe his nerves, and this time he has no problem returning the smile of the woman sitting across from him.

Still, he is so consumed by his thoughts and musings, he almost misses his stop.

"The blue and orange one, Number 73b," Kibum mumbles to himself once he’s got back up onto ground level and has found the correct street, now on his search for the right building. "Are you shitting me?"

He feels just a tad mocked, seeing as most houses on this street are painted blue and orange. He can imagine the cheeky grin on Minho's face as he told Kibum how to find the house. Kibum finds the right one nonetheless, walking up the stairs towards the front door of the upper floor apartment.

When Minho had told him on the phone that there was a key underneath the smallest cactus beside the front door, Kibum had snorted unbelievingly and held a lecture about safety and stupidity and how he couldn’t believe people still did that. That’s when Minho had started laughing, telling him that he could also just wait in front of the door if he so pleased, since he hadn’t been willing to take the spare key the last time they had met each other and agreed to meeting at Minho’s apartment this time. (Kibum recalls Minho warning him that it might come to this situation of him being held up at work, but Kibum had refused anyways, feeling slightly uncomfortable with having the key to an apartment he hadn’t even been to yet.)

"_Take the key from the pot, Bum. I’m sure it’ll be a lot safer with you_." Kibum had heard the amused smile in Minho’s voice. He hadn’t been able to retort anything coherent, though, as the suddenly appearing ball of warmth in his stomach was defying the laws of physics by increasing in intensity directly proportional to dispersing within his body.

But really, there is a key taped to the underside of the pot holding the smallest cactus out of the obviously well-tended collection that’s being displayed on a wooden rack. A small smile steals its way onto Kibum’s lips as he removes the tape and gets his own bundle of keys out of his bag. For some reason, he only now realizes how much he likes the thought of Minho trusting him enough to let Kibum have a key to his apartment already. Easily, he adds the key to his own bunch before actually opening the door.

He feels a little weird entering the place. It smells familiar and he associates it immediately with Minho, but the context is new and different, which makes Kibum feel somewhat giddy. The entryway seems a little narrow, a coat and shoe rack standing to the side of the front door, a small table being covered with an assortment of mail and what Kibum recognizes as coupons, and above it a pin board hanging on the wall, holding what seems like scraps, takeout menus and pictures. Kibum recognizes himself in some of them. Stepping closer and lifting a hand to touch one of them showing him with Minho arm in arm after one of their school plays, a small noise of utter elation and joy escapes him. He makes no move to cover his mouth or hold back his laughter after that, but he swears to never admit to his doings. People do foolish things when they’re in love.

Finally steering his attention away from the board, Kibum slips out of his shoes and puts down his bag before following the hallway all the way into the kitchen slash living room. He is greeted by a cozy but neat assortment of furniture, a clean and modern kitchen with a huge professional-looking coffee machine, the living room with the large TV and seemingly high-quality sound equipment competing for attention, and the long but narrow dining table almost forming a barrier in between the two areas. Kibum first admires the collection of CDs, DVDs and vinyl records being neatly organized on the shelves hanging on the walls in the living area, then the huge fluffy couch that almost begs for him to fall into its cushions. So he does, and lets out a sound of contentment, silently complimenting Minho’s choice of furniture.

Honestly, Kibum is surprised at the maturity the place displays, even though he knows he shouldn’t be. As much as Minho is still a kid at heart, he has grown and evolved during the years they have spent apart; he has changed just as Kibum himself has. Still, everything he notices looks a lot like the Minho he has grown to know and love, but it’s polished and rounded at the edges. Like how there are magazines and books strewn across surfaces haphazardly, how there’s an empty coffee mug being seemingly forgotten on the coffee table, how there’s a sophisticated entertainment station placed beneath the TV. But then again, there are pieces of abstract art hanging in between the shelves on the walls, a palm-like plant placed beside the window and a huge winged chair in the corner next to the audio equipment.

Kibum gets up again and silently wonders where Minho keeps his, of what he knows as impressive, collection of books and magazines. His best guess is in an area that acts as something like an office, since it has a lot to do with Minho’s work. He doesn’t want to simply walk through all the rooms, though, no matter how much he knows Minho won’t care. It’s not even that he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing so, he simply tries to be polite. His mother would have his head otherwise, and the mere thought alone scares him enough. Also, Minho shouldn’t take too long anymore. Kibum can wait a few more minutes.

Walking over to the kitchen, he starts looking through cupboards and drawers in search for glasses and mugs and then something to drink. He stumbles across a small assortment of tea leaves - he knew Minho would have some, despite his caffeine addiction - and decides he wants some. Having the mission of putting the kettle on and finding a teapot completed with ease, he goes back to deciding on which tea to steep.

While leaning against the counter and debating whether to steep jasmine infused sencha or vanilla infused rooibos, he notices the oddness of the situation. For a moment he simply stops everything, even breathing, to take in how comfortable he is on his own in Minho’s apartment, how he makes decisions over goods that aren’t his own, and how much he actually anticipates Minho coming to join him. It’s as if he has been welcomed into this home by some invisible entity. It's almost as if Minho’s home has been opened to Kibum the same way Minho has opened himself the moment they had met again in person.

Maybe nothing about Minho had ever been shut to him, Kibum muses. They had broken up not because they didn’t want to be together anymore, but because they didn’t think high school romances had real chances of evolving into lasting relationships, and because the two of them wanted to get into different fields of work which required them to study in different cities. Simply put, the two of them hadn’t wanted to set themselves up for inevitable heartbreak while at the same time standing in each other’s way. They had stayed friends during that time though, their communication mostly based on texts and the occasional video chat. When Kibum had found work in the same city as Minho lived in, they both were ecstatic to hang out again. They had met, immediately gotten back into the swing of things, as if there hadn’t been several years of being apart, different relationships and experiences between them. Kibum hasn’t even been here for two full months and they are already back to dating.

He smiles at how much of an emotional rollercoaster he had gone through until he’d realized he should just be honest and admit to himself and to Minho that he still cares deeply. Both of them have probably never actually stopped caring about the other, so getting back together was almost a natural thing to happen.

Kibum finds himself with a quickly beating heart and a splitting grin upon his face as he hear the front door open. He almost blindly goes for the sencha while giggling at Minho’s voice sounding through the apartment. Again, he won’t admit to it. Kibum doesn’t giggle. Not even for Minho.

"Hey, Bum, I see you actually did use the key?" There is amusement and a kind of smugness in Minho’s voice.

"Well, I had to use my chance of going through all of your stuff while you’re not here," Kibum answers teasingly and steps towards the hallway from where he can hear the sounds of Minho getting out of his jacket and shoes. "Thanks for letting me in even though, you know, you weren’t actually here."

Minho approaches him with a warm smile but without another word, reaching for Kibum’s face. They share a slow kiss, Kibum holding onto Minho’s sides and eventually wrapping his arms around him. A faint thought wanders through the back of his mind, that maybe he should be wary of how natural this feels, of Minho coming home to him, embracing him with a welcoming kiss, of him feeling so at home here already. It’s only been two and a half weeks since they decided to get back together. It’s not even been half an hour since he has first stepped into this apartment. Kibum shouldn’t be playing with the thought of this situation being what he wants. But right now, in this moment he is happy, and he knows for a fact that they had been wrong, even if just in this one case, even if it had let up to this moment. Maybe high school romances do have the potential to become something bigger and better. Maybe it’s not so much about high school or romance altogether.

"I got noodles, I hope that’s okay with you." Minho still smiles when they break apart, Kibum only now noticing the smell and the bag holding several takeout cartons being placed on top of the small table, his mouth instantly watering.

"If you also got beer, it’s perfect," Kibum murmurs, not wanting to leave Minho’s embrace.

"I thought you went through all my stuff?" Minho teases, a mischievous glint entering his gaze. Kibum laughs at that, deciding to step back a little, his hands still attached to Minho’s warmth.

"Well, I can continue until I find the beer," he grins brightly, "But I’ve also made tea, so maybe you want some of that in the meantime?"

Minho lets out a huge sigh that sounds like a smile and a thank you and presses a kiss to Kibum’s nose. Then he steps away so all contact between them breaks and he reaches for the takeout. The fond smile he grazes Kibum with never seems to leave his face.

"I really don’t want to stress you out," Kibum hears Minho say after he has turned around and begun walking back towards the living area, "But I could definitely get used to this."

Kibum hears the slightly wary, careful tone in Minho’s voice, almost as if he wants to hold the words back but simply can’t. Kibum understands. He doesn’t look back, though, and he doesn’t worry.

"Me too."


End file.
